


a list of things that are real

by scifis



Series: the end of all things (a whisper) [3]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, M/M, New-centric, Non-Linear Narrative, Slice of Life, no zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifis/pseuds/scifis
Summary: He is being hugged, now. It’s warm again, but not scalding, not like before, not unbearable. This warmth is welcome, goes straight to his bones, uses bold letters to write their names on his veins. They are beautiful, beautiful like this, beautiful always, and they find Chanhee to be just as beautiful as them, and suddenly it hits him that this book is one he cannot see the end of. Doesn’t want to.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Juyeon/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Series: the end of all things (a whisper) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735195
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	a list of things that are real

**Author's Note:**

> hey! :D this one came to me at night. i think i like it the most. before you start:
> 
> 1\. this can be read as a oneshot, like the rest of the series so far, but i wouldn’t recommend reading this one as a solo piece because “wasteland, baby” sets the tone for everything in this universe. it’s your choice :D
> 
> 2\. it can be seen as a trigger for some people so i’m putting a warning here for two very light fainting scenes. they start at “Changmin looks at him with big, puppy, almond eyes”, but by then you’ll probably have noticed it, and end with “He never does.)”. if this triggers you somehow, please be careful.
> 
> 3\. thank you for reading. i hope you enjoy. <3

(Sunwoo calls him a few days before the world stops functioning as Chanhee knows it. He listens to the words “try watching the news, hyung. I hope you stay safe” and doesn’t comprehend the way Sunwoo means them because he’s too busy trying to juggle college life and part-time jobs, busy trying to exist like he always has.

When he does get around to watching the news, people on the TV talk about UFOs and extraterrestrials. Three weeks later he can’t leave his dorm room after sunset.

Chanhee is twenty-one and for the first time in his life he doesn’t have a single thing under control.)

Juyeon is warm, solid against his back, a stone, an anchor. They’re holding hands under the blanket they share. “Do you think we’ll ever get back to normal?” he asks absentmindedly. He’s there but his mind isn’t, and Chanhee has always been smart. Knows how to read people, how to let himself be read in return. Knows that Juyeon uses _we_ as short for _the world_ , uses _normal_ as short for _how everything was before it wasn’t_ , _isn’t_ anymore, how everything was and now it is _not_.

The younger leans back, looks at Hyungseo and Changmin sleeping for what feels like the first time in days next to them, thinks about how much he appreciates the taste of water now that it has one. He hates the quiet — hates not being able to play loud music from speakers anymore, hates even the fact that he doesn’t have to use his customer voice to ban silence to a far away place if he wants to — but at night, being held by one of the men whose existence makes him feel like he also exists fully, Chanhee basks in it. Chanhee lets the silence wash over him, over them, feels more than hears Juyeon’s steady breathing against his back.

He doesn’t answer the question.

· 

This is a street he is familiar with, or was, there is not enough of a difference for it to matter. They never use the sidewalk, always the road, feet on cement and ears trained to their surroundings. People are never nice the first time you meet them.

It’s maybe noon. He has a gun, somehow. His best guess is some houses are just like that. He has never fired it, but it’s on a holster on his leg. A bonus. The four of them really hit jackpot with that one particular box, in that one particular bungalow. 

Heat comes from everywhere and at one point Chanhee doesn’t remember why he’s so thankful for the sun everyday, wants it _gone_ , wants something cold to touch his skin. He keeps walking, keeps their pace, none of the houses looking good enough for Juyeon, apparently. He doesn’t know why he’s so mad. His body feels like it’s been lit on fire a thousand times, over and over, and the utility of having limbs escapes his brain.

Hyungseo is holding Changmin’s hand but he wishes someone was holding his. It’s scalding. Everything has lost its meaning. Chanhee wants to make out with an ice cube. Changmin looks at him, big, puppy, almond eyes kind, and Chanhee’s vision turns black as his legs give out. So this is what fainting feels like: familiar.

(It’s inconvenient, really, being sick. Of course it was his fault for not caring enough about the symptoms of being sick, like _feeling sick_ , but he has other things to worry about. Work. Money. His last year in the city he calls home, besides the boy he loves and has never loved him back. Or doesn’t, yet.

After he comes back to existence, he finds his body in the brink of exhaustion. He doesn’t know what is real. When Sunwoo finds him, three hours after they’d agreed to study together at his house, the floor is already an old friend.

Chanhee’s head hurts. He doesn’t remember passing out. He never does.)

Hyungseo, of course, makes him drink a full water bottle after he opens his eyes. It has a taste. He is stopped from sitting up when he tries to, Changmin’s big, puppy, almond eyes kind again, as ever, and sighs. “It happens.” his voice is raspy, rough, comes out completely unattached to him.

“We thought you had died, Chanhee.” It is so unmistakably Juyeon to sound so strict even when there are tears in his eyes. He looks beautiful. He is beautiful. Juyeon is a beautiful, beautiful man, writing love with every tremble of his lips as he tries really hard not to cry over something so small.

Chanhee thinks it’s unfair, having all of their attention and not seeing any smiles. Thinks it’s unfair how beautiful the others are, even with their brows furrowed and their faces stern. They are molded differently than that. They should be smiling. “I’m _okay_. It _happens_.” he repeats, weak. He doesn’t remember his voice sounding like that.

Next to him, Changmin sniffs. “You have to tell us when you don’t feel well, you bastard. You idiot. We could’ve lost you.” 

He is being hugged, now. It’s warm again, but not scalding, not like before, not unbearable. This warmth is welcome, goes straight to his bones, uses bold letters to write their names on his veins. They are beautiful, beautiful like this, beautiful always, and they find Chanhee to be just as beautiful as them, and suddenly it hits him that this book is one he cannot see the end of. Doesn’t want to.

“It won’t happen again.”

· 

His natural, internal clock wakes him up at what looks like seven or eight in the morning. It’s cold. Hyungseo is the only one awake, taking the last few hours of watching over them. His smile takes Chanhee’s breath away even when he’s not yet fully registering anything.

There is a chair next to the other man on the table. Chanhee decides not to sit on it, wrapping his blanket around the two of them as he settles in Hyungseo’s lap instead. “Goodmorning, baby.” Is what leaves his lips. He’s giddy, feels like a teenager, likes the blush on Hyungseo’s cheeks so much, enough to plant kisses all over it just to see him blush harder.

“Goodmorning, love.” Is what he hears as an answer. He does not blush, but contentment settles deep into his heart, his bones, his blood. The cold has left him. 

Hyungseo kisses like mornings, too. Resembles them in the way they’re both the closest thing to comfort Chanhee has in his life, for different reasons but not different enough for it to matter. He welcomes Chanhee home as his lips part, as his breath becomes uneven. Chanhee has learned over the past months that Hyungseo loves kissing the most, swallows the entirety of his moans after parting his own lips to kiss him back.

They hear someone coming down the stairs but it’s none of their roles to mind. Changmin lets out a small “ _oh_ ” as he sees them, Chanhee on Hyungseo, hands everywhere, and it’s so _cute_. It’s cute, and when he turns to watch Changmin’s face turn red, he feels light. “Goodmorning, prince. I cleaned the couch yesterday. Wanna join us there?”

The three of them, and Juyeon upstairs, exist there fully.

· 

The backpack he carries isn’t as heavy as it usually is, which means it’s one of the okay days. He has what he can under control: chooses whose hand he will hold as they walk, chooses conversation topics every once in a while, has socks that reach a certain point on his heels so his old sneakers don’t make his skin itch. They have two water bottles each, because the rain sometimes is kind to them, and Hyungseo smells good next to him. 

Chanhee lets himself imagine art museum dates with this one man, and coffee shop dates with one of the other men, and late night car rides with the last one, walking ahead of them but making sure to always stick close, like a wolf would to its pack.

He is there, feels whole, feels full like he would after a homemade meal, cannot understand why for a moment because they haven’t eaten in almost ten hours now. Affection drips from his eyes unintentionally. He does not mind. 

It must be one of the okay days for Changmin too, seeing as he starts humming a song low on his throat. Everyone knows he’s got a nice voice, and Chanhee would ask him to sing out loud for them, but he looks kind of like a child as he walks — swings his arms around, relaxed, lips naturally pouty and steps carefree — so looking at him is enough.

Hyungseo must know the song leaving the younger’s lips, though, beause he starts humming along. His hand is cold because he refuses to wear a jacket like the rest of them, black t-shirt doing an awful job of protecting him from the cold breeze, but his everything is warm. Chanhee adores him.

Juyeon looks back at them, turns around, is smug about stopping his walk and taking his cap off. His hair is clean and looks amazing when he runs his fingers through it. It must smell good, too. Chanhee is sensitive to smell. Normally they shower when they can, but the rain has been kind, so for now it’s a frequent thing like it was before.

The older man is looking at him, at them, the other three, and Chanhee wants to say he looks like a douchebag who’s just gotten laid and is about to tell his friends about it but he stops, does not make that joke. What he sees behind the smug expression on Juyeon’s face is, unmistakably, undeniably, _by far_ exactly what love looks like.

Chanhee lets go of Hyungseo’s hand and runs.

Juyeon catches him, strong, a hand steady on his back and the other a support under his legs. It’s one of the best hugs Chanhee has ever given, received, exchanged.

“Hey, what was that all about?” Hyungseo shouts. Actually shouts. There is no one around to hear them, but it still makes Chanhee flinch. He relaxes when Juyeon starts swaying back and forth, grip still tight around him, real, solid, existing.

Changmin giggles. It’s an okay day. “I just felt like it,” Chanhee says, easy, the truth. “Wanted to see if he would catch me.”

Juyeon helps him plant his feet on the ground, gently, as if he was helping a baby. Chanhee is his. _Theirs_ , as Hyungseo hugs him from behind as soon as he’s standing on his own feet again, as Changmin asks Juyeon to give him a piggyback ride down the block, as the sun touches their skin with tenderness and makes them real.

He kisses three men, his to love, to admire, chooses another hand to hold as they walk, chooses conversation topics every once in a while.

The world has ended but they haven’t. Won’t.

  
· 

It isn’t always okay. Days like these remind him of motherly hugs, gummy smiles, childhood friends. The thunderstorm is loud against his ears, which means they can’t leave the house, which mean the outside does not exist anymore. He focuses on the bodies next to him, checks his own pulse, checks theirs. Everything is as in place as it can be. Chanhee lets himself sink. 

(Sunwoo stays behind as Chanhee goes away, of course he does. He lives with his parents, will continue to do so until he finishes both high school and college. A mama’s boy, if Chanhee’s ever seen one.

They talk mostly on the weekends, when existing is easier. Sunwoo understands Chanhee. Chanhee loves him, doesn’t know what love is yet.)

Juyeon stirs, grabs Chanhee by the waist, buries his head on the other boy’s neck — he’s still asleep but Chanhee thinks Aphrodite is proud of him, for some reason. He is the most beautiful thing Chanhee has ever seen. “You have me, handsome. I’m here.”

Juyeon answers _I know_ in his sleep, always the multitasker. The thunderstorm continues outside.

(His mother helps him with his luggage when they get to the train station. Christmas break is over, he goes back to everything now. He owes her his existence, will pay her back if he ever gets the chance. Will exist for her. Always. 

“I know money isn’t everything, but I’m sorry we didn’t have much of it. You have been through so much already,” And she is crying. He feels tears, too, registers they are his own a beat too late. “I’m sorry we couldn’t give you what you deserve. You’ll do better than us, right? I know you will.”

Sunwoo starts crying too. Chanhee almost wants to say he’ll see them again, he isn’t dying, the world isn’t ending. He stays quiet. Listens to what she has to say.

“Now, my baby, I want you to be the happiest you can be at all times, okay? No matter who you are with, no matter how hard things are.” She smells like the ox bone soup she made him for lunch. “I want you to go out there again and make yourself proud. You deserve to be so, so loved. You deserve everything.”

Sunwoo is still a boy but hugs Chanhee so tight, says _You’re the hyung but I’m always gonna be stronger than you_ against his ear as they hear his mother laugh. In a different timeline, they would kiss, confess their feelings for each other, be together for the end of the world.)

Chanhee smiles to himself. Somewhere, he hopes they exist, still. Can only do so much.

· 

(Sunwoo’s laugh is loud and annoying, fits its place when it hits Chanhee’s ears. It’s the first good thing he’s heard in hours. He says “hi, Chanhee-hyung” and it’s so easy to exist with him.

Chanhee asks his manager for a break, gets two of those sugary cookie-looking things the coffee shop has on display, sits in front of the boy he’s always been kind of infatuated with. “Came to save me?”

“Always, hyung. Always gonna save you.”)

They lay on the grass, Chanhee doesn’t know which of those limbs are his or doesn’t care enough about that at the moment. Changmin is open and inviting in the way he smiles at him, and then he is a goner as he has been since the day they met by accident on the library and decided they were worth sticking around for, if only to cram for this one test together.

“I think you need to shave.” He says. Changmin smiles again, eyes twinkling, open, inviting, a book Chanhee has read many times. Love is such a dangerous thing.

A beat passes, then two. They don’t break eye contact because there is nothing to hide, there has never been anything to hide between the four of them. “You like my stubble.” Chanhee likes everything about what Changmin is. And there is a grin so, so beautiful making its way to Changmin’s lips, Chanhee absolutely has to know what it tastes like.

“No kissing without me, guys!” Hyungseo screams, almost desperate, and Chanhee hears his footsteps as he runs to lay next to them. Juyeon is calmer when he makes himself known. There is a pout on his lips. And then a frown. “I want kisses, too.”

(He’s been in love for most of his life, almost always with one boy, but never with three at the same time. He figures it fits. Figures there would be nothing if it wasn’t for kissing Changmin’s smile, holding Juyeon’s hand, hearing Hyungseo’s voice, if it wasn’t for existing at the same time as them. Easily. Fully.)

Chanhee does not need saving, but is saved nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> once again, wow. thank you so much. so many people have been kind to me, i don’t know many things but i know i am glad people genuinely enjoy this. it means the world to me. i love chanhee. i love you. rmbr to stay safe! <3


End file.
